Grimm
Predators are everywhere
The area near the shrine was a common area for animals to arrive. Whether they came through their own means or magical, the shrine drew them like a watering hole, a mixture of predator and prey mingling in the surrounding trees. Lena's notes mentioned it having something to do with the gods, but Grimm thought they might be drawn by the various offerings, unguarded food free for the taking.
Whatever the reasoning, he made a point to swing by at least once a day, a pack of supplies clutched in his grip for those who may come seeking treatment like today. A colorfully feathered deer-like creature sat with a bloody and broken leg, one that looked too mangled to have been from a fall. Although not unkind, Grimm moved with steady and sure hands, one to keep the ramphire calm and secure while the other began to splint and wrap the wound.
Everything was going well until something shifted in the space near them, the beady eyes of the creature blowing wide with alarm. With a low grumble, Grimm tightened his hold, eyes narrowing in annoyed focus on the linen clutched within his fingers. He didn't look up or even offer a gesture, his deep and growling voice carrying enough authority to make the words more than a suggestion. "Scram, mate. Yur givin' this ramph'r a heart attack." The Caretaker didn't know or care what was behind him, sure it had come for a reason, but prioritizing the task he was currently handling.
Turning his head ever so slightly, the free strands of dark hair shifted, giving a glimpse of the ragged beard and tan skin beyond the hunch of broad shoulders. "I'll find ya afta." To see about whatever need the creature might have.
Whatever the reasoning, he made a point to swing by at least once a day, a pack of supplies clutched in his grip for those who may come seeking treatment like today. A colorfully feathered deer-like creature sat with a bloody and broken leg, one that looked too mangled to have been from a fall. Although not unkind, Grimm moved with steady and sure hands, one to keep the ramphire calm and secure while the other began to splint and wrap the wound.
Everything was going well until something shifted in the space near them, the beady eyes of the creature blowing wide with alarm. With a low grumble, Grimm tightened his hold, eyes narrowing in annoyed focus on the linen clutched within his fingers. He didn't look up or even offer a gesture, his deep and growling voice carrying enough authority to make the words more than a suggestion. "Scram, mate. Yur givin' this ramph'r a heart attack." The Caretaker didn't know or care what was behind him, sure it had come for a reason, but prioritizing the task he was currently handling.
Turning his head ever so slightly, the free strands of dark hair shifted, giving a glimpse of the ragged beard and tan skin beyond the hunch of broad shoulders. "I'll find ya afta." To see about whatever need the creature might have.
